


Yield to All

by blakefancier



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake does what he must for the rebellion, even if it's whoring his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yield to All

No one said anything, they didn't even look at him, until they teleported up safely. Jenna was the first one to comment; Blake wasn't surprised.

"You can't seriously be considering his offer, Blake!"

He didn't reply, but he didn't have to.

"Of course he isn't, Jenna." Cally put a hand on Jenna's shoulder and gave her an earnest look.

Blake took off his bracelet and placed it back into the slot. He ignored the conversation around him, though he noticed that Avon was silent. He left without answering any of them; Avon followed. He should have been more annoyed, but he wasn't.

"Have you ever been with a man, Blake?" Avon's question was sudden and it made Blake stumble slightly.

"An alliance with the Illium government would help the Cause."

"That's not what I asked," Avon said softly.

"No." And Blake was sure the Emperor knew that.

"Do you really want your first time with a man to be that way?"

He didn't want a first time with a man at all, but he didn't say that out loud. He looked at Avon and raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering?"

Avon stopped and grabbed Blake's arm. There was something dark and fathomless in his eyes. "Would you accept?"

He glanced down at Avon's hand. "I'm not even sure I'm going to accept the Emperor's offer."

"Don't lie to me, Blake. Better yet, don't lie to yourself."

Blake looked away, shame burning in his belly.

Avon released his arm and cupped his face. He whispered Blake's name and pulled his head down. Blake knew that he should have fought, made some effort to resist, but his limbs refused to work.

Avon tasted like coffee and the sweet fruit the Emperor offered at his table. He gasped when Avon's tongue slipped into his mouth and he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see. But he couldn't pretend. Couldn't pretend it wasn't Avon who pushed him back against the wall, smelling of sweat and leather, his stubbled face scraping against Blake's.

"My bedroom," Avon whispered against his mouth.

Blake found he had no response and, soon, more than just shame burned through him.

******

Cally teleported him down onto the planet, into the Emperor's private rooms.

He was waiting for Blake, a smile on his face.

"I'm glad you accepted my offer." He came forward and clasped Blake's shoulder.

"How could I decline?" Blake smiled; he hoped that it looked natural. "You're a powerful man, Emperor. Any alliance with you would be a blow against the Federation."

The Emperor tilted his head and gave a tiny smile. "Is that the only reason?"

Blake kept silent; there was nothing he could say that wouldn't offend.

"No matter. You're here now." The Emperor waved his hand. "Get down on your knees."

He stared at the Emperor for a heartbeat; he wished he could say he was surprised. He fell to his knees, staring past the Emperor at the far wall. The sound of rustling cloth, fastenings being opened, made his stomach churn. But when the Emperor told him to suck, Blake swallowed the bile in his mouth and leaned forward.

It could have been worse; the Emperor did not hurt him and he made sure Blake enjoyed himself.

Blake found that as long as he muffled the sound of his moans into the pillow, he could pretend it wasn't him. The only time his composure broke was near the end, when the whispers of 'slut' and 'whore' and 'knew you'd love it' chased him towards orgasm. He told himself, later, it was sweat that stung his eyes.

When he woke the next morning, sore and sick, he was alone. He was halfway dressed when the Emperor's assistant came into the room with a tray of food and their treaty written on parchment. At the bottom was the Emperor's seal pressed in red wax.

He ignored the food and took the treaty, reading it thoroughly before calling for teleport.

When he appeared on the Liberator, there was only Avon waiting for him. "Where are the others?"

"Cally thought it best that there only be one of us." Avon walked over to him and took the parchment from his hands.

"Lost the draw, did you?"

"I volunteered." His disbelief must have shown on his face, because Avon grinned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are."

Blake laughed, at least, that's what he thought was going to happen. Instead, what came from his mouth was closer to a sob. He bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood; that seemed to stop the sound.

Avon squeezed his shoulder and led him towards their cabins. "You need a shower and some whisky."

"It's morning." His voice was hoarse, as if he had been screaming for hours.

"Then you have all day to get drunk. For once in your life, don't argue with me, Blake."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the look on Avon's face silenced him.

Avon walked him to his door. "Take a shower. I'll be back with the whisky."

He didn't make a move to enter his cabin until Avon had disappeared around the corner. In the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and stared at himself in the mirror. There were no marks on his skin. If not for the ache, if not for the soreness, he might not have believed it had happened.

In the shower, he turned on the water as hot as he could stand, and stepped under it. The water stripped away the smell of sex and the feel of soft hands, leaving nothing but the rawness of Blake's skin. He would have liked to stay under the water until all of him dissolved, but soon the temperature turned frigid. He did not want to be numb.

He turned off the water, dried off, and slipped into his robe.

Avon was waiting for him when he stepped out. He could see the concern in the frown on Avon's face and something inside his belly flip-flopped. He took the glass of whisky on the table and drank all of it in one gulp. It burned and he was grateful for it.

He took the bottle from Avon, poured more into his glass and sat on his bed. After a moment's hesitation, Avon settled next to him. They drank in silence, though Blake could sense that Avon wanted to ask him something. Blake waited until his third glass to speak.

"Ask me, Avon. I know you want to."

Avon's mouth was set in a grim line. "Was it worth it, Blake?"

He stared down at his glass, into the amber liquid. There was only one answer he could give, the only one he could ever give. "It will be, in the end, when the Federation has been defeated."

"And you can live with that?"

Anger flared inside of him, and died when he looked up into Avon's face. There was only curiosity in Avon's eyes, a yearning to understand; he was not trying to be cruel. "It's the only option that's acceptable."

"I couldn't." There was a sadness bordering on regret in Avon's voice.

"You'd be surprised at the things you can live with." Blake finished the whisky in his glass, then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You're tired. I should let you sleep." Avon got to his feet.

Blake found that he didn't want Avon to go, not yet. "I never thanked you for the other night. Avon, I…"

"Don't. Just, don't." Avon's voice was harsh, but the look in his eyes was anything but. "No thanks are needed."

When he turned to go, Blake reached out and grabbed his wrist.

Avon stared at him. "Blake?"

"I hate to drink alone." He met Avon's gaze and tightened his grip.

For a moment, he thought Avon might not stay. Then Avon sighed and sat back down on the bed. "This is the only bottle of liquor I have, Blake. Vila managed to find the rest."

Blake smiled and released his arm. "I have a few bottles of Lindorian brandy hidden away."

Avon shook his head and poured himself another drink.


End file.
